The pencil is still there. That is usually how it starts — not with a decision, but with a pencil found in a drawer, or a sketchbook someone left on a table, or a moment of watching a child draw without thinking and feeling something unnamed move through you. You used to draw. Maybe it was a long time ago. Maybe it was last year. Somewhere between then and now, quietly and without ceremony, you stopped. Stopping rarely announces itself. You don't usually decide to put drawing
